Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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Enslaved Chapter 64 free porn video
Quentin had a lazy afternoon.
First he instructed Cassim to remove Simone from the Punishment Block and give her Treatment. The dildoe, however, was to remain within her for a further six hours and she was to be returned to the iron-barred cell adjacent to his personal quarters.
“Do you know,” smiled Quentin at the Lebanese, “all this is largely for your benefit?”
The dusky Arab also smiled, briefly but lecherously. “If you say so, Sir,” he replied.
“I do,” said Quentin. “Mind you, I shall watch.”
“That is your privilege, Sir.”
“Quite so...”
With a wave of the hand, Cassim was dismissed.
Then followed lunch, served by the delectable Austrian teenagers. Salad Nicoise followed by a small but most succulent, rare fillet steak. A bottle of Fleurie as an accompaniment, very fruity wine. Brandy and coffee seemed appropriate. Quentin began to feel drowsy as he sat in a shaded part of the patio. Melissa still had not returned. It mattered not. His wife was an independent being. Both of them did as they wished with no questions asked. Doubtless she was satisfying her sexual lusts in one way or another.
Vaguely... briefly... Quentin thought of Julia. Still toiling in that arid, hot pool. Now nearing exhaustion. Tough, very tough. But a slave was a slave... and could expect such treatment. Possibly, by then she had passed out. Then for certain sure she would get a whipping from Melissa.
Yes... the relationship between those two was most interesting. Once they had been slaves alongside each other, Melissa the senior in slavery, as a matter of fact. Now Melissa held the whip hand, how appalling that must be for Julia!
On the other hand, reflected Quentin, it is I who hold the genuine whip hand over both women. One is my wife, one is my slave. But, different as those relationships might be, it is I who has the ultimate power. That indeed, was a most satisfying thought!
Quentin began to doze.
Ultimately he slept a half-drunken sleep.
When he awoke from it, he felt incredibly randy. Drink often did that to him. He found himself still lying out on the patio stretched out on a comfortable lounger. Maria and Heidi stood nearby. His young slaves, eager and ready to serve. Which should he make use of? It took Quentin five luxuriously lecherous minutes to decide...
It should be Heidi.
Blonde. sixteen years old. Ripe and rounded, unsurpassable material. Quentin crooked a finger.
“Yes, Master?”
“You are going to suck me...”
A gulp. “Y-Yes Master.”
“Very well indeed.”
“Yes, M-Master. It is my honour and privilege.”
Quentin, having lumbered to his feet and removed his shorts, lay back again on the lounger. He was flaccid and felt lazy. All to the good, Heidi could spend hours on him if necessary. Not that that was very likely.
“Come, my pretty...”
“Yes, Master.”
The suppliant blonde girl insinuated herself onto the lounger... wriggling her way between Quentin’s spreading thighs. She knew what she had to do. No matter how much this middle-aged lecher revolted her, that did not come into it, she was his slave. And she knew she would be mercilessly beaten if she did not please him.
So, please him she must.
Young nostrils flared in disgust as she pressed lips to a crinkled scrotum. A pink tongue darted and began to lick. Everywhere it could give pleasure.
It was but a beginning...
Quentin stirred lazily. Mmmm... it was most pleasing. Would it be possible that he could continue dozing whilst receiving such delicate stimulation? Possibly. But when this young blonde got sucking properly she would surely rouse him from any doze!
Mmmmm... Mmmmm... delicious... delicious...
The flickering tongue had begun to lick his still flaccid organ. Lingering on his knob, seeming to do it all so lovingly. What a delightful young slave this was! Quentin began to feel a slight stirring in his loins, would this incipient lust overcome his afternoon laziness?
Probably... probably...
But one could only wait and see.
In any case, it didn’t matter. Even if he fell asleep, Heidi would go on sucking him. Because he had given her the order to do so, and a slave obeyed an order!
Aaaahh... there was a faint stirring. And the little beauty had taken his knob into her mouth. Mmmm... she was beginning to suck quite wonderfully!
Quentin felt himself starting to thicken. As he did so, he felt the wet-warm mouth begin to suck more avidly. That was how it should be. Doubtless the girl had spent hours between the legs of Hans and Cassim under Melissa’s supervision, learning such tricks.
Mmmmm... delightful! Now he was getting more and more solid...
Quentin half opened his eyes to look down at a bobbing blond head... saw beyond it a bare back and a tight-rounded bottom. Mmmmm... what more could a man want? Perhaps he should fuck her after all. No... he felt too lazy to move. This sucking mouth, feeling even more eager, would quite suffice on this occasion.
Steadily Quentin’s lust mounted. His jowels began to shake a little, his belly to quake. Suddenly he groaned. He was going to come at any moment. Nothing could stop it.
Nothing...
The exquisite sensation flooded his loins. Seemed to fill his balls...
Then, groaning more loudly, rolling from side to side, he was spunking... and spunking... with Heidi still sucking and sucking, as she must.
Sucking and swallowing. Sucking and swallowing.
Draining me dry.
A final groan and Quentin’s head turned to one side. A dribble of saliva ran from one corner of his mouth. He sighed contentedly. His now flaccid organ was still held in the wet-warmth, in the mouth that had now ceased sucking.
Mmmm... lovely...
So... so... relaxing...
Quentin’s thoughts drifted up and away. He was at perfect peace. And within less than a minute, he had begun to snore faintly.
How long had he slept?
It could have been half an hour... an hour... two hours.
All Quentin knew that, when he did awake his prick was still in Heidi’s young wet mouth. He smiled, that was good, that showed how the girl had been trained. Heidi had received no order to remove her mouth so had kept her position. Excellent, the correct behaviour for a slave-girl. He wondered idly how often the girl had got a thrashing for removing her mouth without receiving an order.
God, he thought, I’m still feeling randy. It must be the heat plus the booze he’d had for lunchtime. Booze often did that for him though he wasn’t always able to perform to any great degree. Still, it was nice trying! Quentin patted the blonde head... and at once the mouth went to work again.
Almost imperceptibly at first. So gently...
Ahh, there was skill for you. This youngster knew what she was doing alright. Aware that he would not want to be rushed the second time... and her task might be of considerable duration.
Opening his eyes fully, Quentin became aware at this point of something going on at one end of the swimming pool, which was some fifty yards from the patio. There were three figures there... Melissa, wearing a summer dress, a naked Julia, and Hans, nude but for the briefest pair of trunks.
In Melissa’s hand was a whip... a slim, four-foot long snake of plaited rhino-hide... and Julia was having her wrists corded above her head to the framework of the diving-board by the German. Her head was down and she was obviously u*********s. She must have passed out in the heat, exhausted, thought Quentin, before she had finished cleaning the pool. Melissa would not accept this as a good reason for failure. Rather unjust... but a slave-girl could expect nothing else. He recalled how often, on the ‘Paradise,’ he had watched an overseer laying a meaty strap across some unfortunate girl’s hindquarters as she writhed up the deck. Either that girl would have fallen exhausted before scrubbing that deck from end to end, or was being too slow at her task. It made no difference. She got a good belting anyway... and was then put back to work. Good training that...
Now Cassim appeared, carrying two buckets. He was as briefly covered as Hans.
Slosh!
The first bucketful hit Julia in her face and breasts.
Slosh!
The second hit her back.
No effect. Or very little anyway. Melissa said something to the Arab who went off with the buckets, obviously to fetch more water. Julia now hung by her wrists, toes just touching the concrete beneath her.
Did Quentin feel any pity? Oddly enough, on this occasion, he felt just a twinge. Melissa had deliberately set the girl an impossible task and was now going to use the whip on her for failing. Julia was not often whipped, one would have thought that a lesser punishment would have sufficed and the whip should have been kept for something more serious. Still, that was Melissa for you...
He became conscious that Heidi was beginning to arouse him again. Yes, he was definitely thickening once more. Perhaps what he was witnessing was helping. One could not deny there was a great deal of pleasure in watching a lovely young woman about to be whipped. Even if it was an act of injustice!
Cassim returned with two more buckets and once more water was sloshed fore and aft over the drooping Julia. This time the dark head jerked up, even if it did fall again. Quentin heard a distant moan. She’s half-conscious anyway, thought Quentin ... and the first stroke would bring her fully round.
He was getting hard. Heidi was sucking more avidly. Oh it was good... good!
Hans and Cassim stepped to one side; Melissa trailed the whip over the concrete, straddled her legs slightly, then up it came …
Craaaccckkk!
It fell across the smoothness of Julia’s back, at just about the level of her shoulder blades, raising a cruel stripe of red torment.
An awful shriek, with head thrown back...
Julia jerked like a puppet on a string, twisting and swinging from side to side. Quentin saw that the tip of the whip had curled around and flailed into her right breast. No wonder it had been such an awful shriek!
Now he was almost fully hard. Heidi was doing a marvellous job. Now give it across that lovely bottom of hers, said Quentin to himself. Yes... make that lovely arse squirm!
It was as if Melissa had heard him...
Craaaccckkk!
The whip fell clean across the centre of Julia’s curvaceous buttocks... to send her into a frenzy of writhing again as her long, gasping scream echoed up to the skies.
Beautiful, thought Quentin. Oh look at that bottom juddering and jerking in agony! Oh how wonderful it was to see a naked woman whipped!
Now Quentin was roused to full erection... and Heidi was giving him everything. To increase his lustful pleasure, Quentin bent forward in the lounger and cupped the girl’s breasts ... squeezing the pendulous fruit.
“That’s it, girl... suck... suck...” he urged. Just as if Heidi was not already doing that with all her might!
Craaaccckkk!
Julia got a third stroke across her back, just a fraction lower. But this time Melissa had moved to the other side of her victim so that the tip of the whip now bit into Julia’s left breast.
Again that awful, disbelieving shriek...
Up... up... up!
Lucky this place is so isolated, reflected Quentin. Still, that was one of the reasons he’d bought it.
Ccrraaacccckkkk!
The whip had returned to Julia’s bottom, this fourth stroke coming from the same side as the third. Quentin saw the tip whip-lash around Julia’s left flank and scar the whiteness of her soft belly.
No wonder she shrieked as she did! No wonder she writhed like a fish on a hook and line!
Cruelty and lust were throbbing through Quentin. How many was Melissa going to lay on? A dozen, probably. Could he resist Heidi’s mouth until the end? He would try.
Oh God, it was SO good!
Watching Julia being whipped whilst this youngster sucked him!
Quentin saw Melissa change sides again.
Ccrraaaccckkkkkkk!
Across the smooth white back once more and again a fraction lower... but not so low that the right breast did not feel the whip’s bite.
“Yyyyeeeee... aaaagghh... aaaagghh... aaaggghhhh!”
A frenzy of twisting-juddering flesh...
Ccrraaacccckkkk!
The sixth stroke wealed the quaking-clenching buttock cheeks... setting them into a series of gyrations which had to be seen to be believed.
Then Julia’s head slumped.
She’s gone again, thought Quentin. Not surprising. Melissa signed to Cassim who hurried off with his buckets once more. In less than half a minute he was back and Julia was being unceremoniously revived.
Slosh!
Slosh!
Horrible sounds as she came back to life.
“Merceee... aaaagghh... merceeeeee!” Quentin clearly heard the pitiful plea. Julia did not often ask for mercy these days... because she knew she never got it. As on this occasion.
Methodically, Melissa resumed the whipping and, by the time the tenth stroke had fallen, Quentin was once again jerking and jetting into Heidi’s mouth... albeit not quite so strongly as on the first occasion. His pleasure, however, was if anything, even greater.
Lying back panting Quentin was dimly aware of two more strokes cracking across the flesh of the half-demented Julia. But he was past caring...
As, it seemed, was Julia after the twelfth stroke. For no more sound came from her. She must be u*********s again, thought Quentin with a lazy kind of indifference. He closed his eyes again.
A short while later, through fractionally open lids, Quentin saw Hans carrying a lifeless Julia into the house like a sack of coals. Cassim followed after. Then Melissa, whip now coiled. She glanced at him but did not stop. Perhaps, she thinks I am asleep... or do not want to be disturbed.
On the other hand, having been highly roused by what she had done, it was more than likely that while Cassim attended to Julia’s Treatment, she would have Hans give her a good fucking. Or maybe Hans would give the Treatment and Cassim give the fucking.
Quentin smiled.
He didn’t care either way.
There was of course, a third possibility, he mused. And that was that both Hans and Cassim would fuck her!
Bon chance to them all!
As far as he was concerned, he couldn’t have asked for a more enjoyable afternoon.
A quarter of an hour later, young Heidi had been dismissed and Quentin strolled back to his personal apartment to take a much needed shower. He had sweated a lot.
Refreshed, rubbing himself down, Quentin looked through the iron-grilled door into the room in which he kept Simone. As usual she was lying on her hard bunk as if asleep, her lacerated hind-quarters towards him.
“Tut... tut... “he said half to himself. He had quite meant to send the woman for Treatment and then clean forgotten all about it! Still, no matter, an extension of her sufferings would do no harm.
He unlocked the door and entered.
Gasping, groaning, somehow Simone managed to force herself. She knelt on the bunk and projected her superb hind quarters towards the door, thighs parted. This was the obligatory posture she had to adopt whenever anyone entered her cell-room. Failure to do so got her a caning... so she had a strong incentive to make the effort!
Quentin grinned as he saw the round, black base of the dildoe nicely in position. All was well. However Simone would have to wear a retaining harness if she was to be moving about the house. Melissa seemed to think it was a good idea that she should be put to work rather than ‘lop about’ all day. He would consider that. However, Simone was his personal slave... and he would do as he wished with her.
“How’s it feeling, my slave?” enquired Quentin.
A sobbing groan from Simone...
“That thing up your arse, I mean?”
Another groan, another shudder.
Quentin quietly took down the hook-handled cane which always hung ready across the wall. Two quick strokes... left and right... across Simone’s already agonisingly tender bottom sent her shrieking, sprawling and twisting along the bunk to the wall.
“M-Merceee!” she cried, turning and holding out imploring arms. There was a look of defeat and exhaustion on her contorted features.
“You must answer your Master when he questions you!” rasped Quentin, flexing the cane. If her liked he could give it to her across those lovely melon-tits of hers... and he would if she wasn’t quick with her reply.
“A-aghh... it... h-hurts... M-Master...” moaned Simone, tears cascading.
“Oh it does, does it?” Quentin half sneered. “So, by the look of it does the rest of your backside. Don’t you ever dare to disobey me again!”
It had not taken him long to conquer this proud and rebellious woman, reflected Quentin. She had become like putty in his hands and would, except in panic and moments of mental aberration, do just as he ordered. As a slave-girl should. Excellent. He replaced the cane on its hook and saw the look of relief in Simone’s eyes.
“Did I give you permission to stop showing me your wares?” demanded Quentin.
“N-no... No... I... I beg pardon, Master... “
Simone scrambled around and once more adopted her original degrading posture. Quentin studied his possession at leisure. There was plenty of meat on this woman, which made her a pleasant contrast to the younger and more neatly-rounded charms of Maria and Heidi. Incredible to realise that this was the same haughty, arrogant woman he had met one evening in a restaurant not so long ago, what remarkable changes pain and terror can induce!
“Alright, that will do,” he said at last. “You can get off there now.”
Wincing, flinching, gasping, Simone got painfully off the bunk. She half stooped, by reason of the fact that the skin on her bottom seemed to have halved in area!
“Stand up straight, girl!” snapped Quentin. It was amusing to call this woman of thirty ‘girl’.
Simone cried out as she forced herself to straighten. Oh the blazing torment of her buttocks!
“Put your hands on top of your head...”
Simone did so. Her fulsome breasts rose a little higher. The aureoles were large, the strong nipples a light brown. Almost casually Quentin fondled both breasts, feeling a little shudder as he did so. Ah yes... this woman still had to make a tremendous effort not to recoil. That was good. One day she would have become so acclimatised no such effort would be required, she would have become as Julia now was.
“Who do these belong to?” asked Quentin.
“Mmff... mmfff... y-you... M-Master.”
“Correct slave.” He squeezed the resilient flesh. “Though once you were loath to admit it.” He grinned. “But not now, eh?”
Simone shook her head. “N-no... Master,” she whispered, tears flowing faster. Oh the bitterness of defeat!
“If I hadn’t just had young Heidi sucking me,” continued Quentin, still fondling, “I should now give you a fucking.” He saw a cheek twitch. “However, I don’t want to make you miss a treat. You will go along to the Treatment room where, I am sure, you will find either Cassim or Hans attending to Julia. You will tell whoever it is that you have been sent for Treatment. Also you will ask whoever it is to fuck you.” Again that cheek twitched. “Clear, slave?”
“Mmfff... mmmmfff... y-yer... essss... M-Master,” sobbed Simone. Oh the humiliation of it! The utter, utter humiliation of it!
“Off you go then,” smiled Quentin.
Quentin pulled wide the door and made a little mock bow as Simone swayed stiffly past him.
Sick at heart, but aching for the relief that Treatment would ultimately bring, Simone entered the Treatment room. Cassim, the Arab had just finished attending to Julia who, covered in ointment, lay secured face down on one of the tables. She had recovered consciousness and was wide-eyed and silent.
“I have been sent for Treatment, Sir,” said Simone, dropping one knee.
“Have you,” grinned Cassim, “and from what I saw of your backside not long ago, you could do with it.”
Simone summoned her resolve. “And... and... Sir... I am to ask... ask... if... oohh... if... you w-would like to... to f-fuck me...”
The grin on Cassim’s dusky face broadened. “I’ll think about that, my good woman,” he said. “Yes... I’ll certainly think about that. But for the time being, come up on here.” He tapped the top of a table-top next to Julia’s.
Gasping with the pain it caused, Simone got on to the table and lay face down. Her wrists and ankles were buckled to each corner so that she was spread-eagled. Simone gritted her teeth and felt her nates start to clench and unclench involuntarily. The first part of the Treatment was the purest agony... intensifying the agony when a Lotion was applied; only when the Ointment went on did the relief start.
The icy-cold liquid... poured on... instantly turning to blazing heat. Then rubbed in. Unbelievable pain! Intensifying. Simone screamed and screamed uninhibitedly, praying for the Ointment to be applied, pleading for it. But as ever, Cassim seemed in no hurry.
Then, when she thought she could not endure the torment a single moment more, the cooling Ointment came. More... more... oh quickly! All over... aaaahh... quickly... quickly!
Moaning, Simone felt relief coming, she sobbed like a c***d. Carelessly indifferent, Cassim slapped and kneaded her buttock cheeks... and also occasionally fondled her sexually. Simone did not care, as long as she got relief.
“There,” said Cassim at last, giving the ample bottom a final slap. “You’ll soon feel... and look... a lot better.” He turned on the large arc-lamp above the table. Healing rays began to beam down, penetrating deep to perform their miraculous quick-healing work. Then Cassim touched the end of the dildoe.
“I see they’re getting you ready for me,” he said. Simone shuddered but remained silent. “It’ll be quite a while though,” continued Cassim. “Now, about this fucking. If I release your ankles, you can get your arse nicely in the air. It’ll be a bit sticky but I’m not all that fussed.”
Simone felt her ankles unbuckled. A sickness rose within her as she drew up her knees to present herself blatantly. To present herself to a stinking Arab. To present herself to a stinking Arab with a massive organ.
Simone gritted her teeth and waited.
Was there no end to the degradation she had to suffer?
The b**st would be removing his brief trunks. Looking upon her lecherously, looking down on the white woman he could humiliate and then enjoy as and when he wished. Doubtless he would have taken hold of his organ... would be manipulating it a little... preparing it to enter her... preparing it to ravage her bestially.
Simone gritted her teeth even more fiercely.
Any moment now...
There came a faint buzzing sound. Simone heard Cassim’s bare feet padding across the room. Turning her head, she saw the great bone of his manhood swinging before him as he crossed the room. Yes... he was certainly ready for her.
“Treatment Room,” said Cassim, having picked up the house-phone. A pause. “Ah yes... Ma’am... of course, Ma’am. At once Ma’am...” The receiver went down and Cassim came back. “Sorry... some other time,” he said, giving Simone’s raised bottom a stinging slap. “Your Mistress is making demands!”
With a yelp, Simone slid down. She heard the door open and close, relief flooded her momentarily. Then Simone began to sob quietly as she lay there with only wrists secured.
Was there not an even greater abasement in being rejected by such a vile creature than in being taken by him?
First he instructed Cassim to remove Simone from the Punishment Block and give her Treatment. The dildoe, however, was to remain within her for a further six hours and she was to be returned to the iron-barred cell adjacent to his personal quarters.
“Do you know,” smiled Quentin at the Lebanese, “all this is largely for your benefit?”
The dusky Arab also smiled, briefly but lecherously. “If you say so, Sir,” he replied.
“I do,” said Quentin. “Mind you, I shall watch.”
“That is your privilege, Sir.”
“Quite so...”
With a wave of the hand, Cassim was dismissed.
Then followed lunch, served by the delectable Austrian teenagers. Salad Nicoise followed by a small but most succulent, rare fillet steak. A bottle of Fleurie as an accompaniment, very fruity wine. Brandy and coffee seemed appropriate. Quentin began to feel drowsy as he sat in a shaded part of the patio. Melissa still had not returned. It mattered not. His wife was an independent being. Both of them did as they wished with no questions asked. Doubtless she was satisfying her sexual lusts in one way or another.
Vaguely... briefly... Quentin thought of Julia. Still toiling in that arid, hot pool. Now nearing exhaustion. Tough, very tough. But a slave was a slave... and could expect such treatment. Possibly, by then she had passed out. Then for certain sure she would get a whipping from Melissa.
Yes... the relationship between those two was most interesting. Once they had been slaves alongside each other, Melissa the senior in slavery, as a matter of fact. Now Melissa held the whip hand, how appalling that must be for Julia!
On the other hand, reflected Quentin, it is I who hold the genuine whip hand over both women. One is my wife, one is my slave. But, different as those relationships might be, it is I who has the ultimate power. That indeed, was a most satisfying thought!
Quentin began to doze.
Ultimately he slept a half-drunken sleep.
When he awoke from it, he felt incredibly randy. Drink often did that to him. He found himself still lying out on the patio stretched out on a comfortable lounger. Maria and Heidi stood nearby. His young slaves, eager and ready to serve. Which should he make use of? It took Quentin five luxuriously lecherous minutes to decide...
It should be Heidi.
Blonde. sixteen years old. Ripe and rounded, unsurpassable material. Quentin crooked a finger.
“Yes, Master?”
“You are going to suck me...”
A gulp. “Y-Yes Master.”
“Very well indeed.”
“Yes, M-Master. It is my honour and privilege.”
Quentin, having lumbered to his feet and removed his shorts, lay back again on the lounger. He was flaccid and felt lazy. All to the good, Heidi could spend hours on him if necessary. Not that that was very likely.
“Come, my pretty...”
“Yes, Master.”
The suppliant blonde girl insinuated herself onto the lounger... wriggling her way between Quentin’s spreading thighs. She knew what she had to do. No matter how much this middle-aged lecher revolted her, that did not come into it, she was his slave. And she knew she would be mercilessly beaten if she did not please him.
So, please him she must.
Young nostrils flared in disgust as she pressed lips to a crinkled scrotum. A pink tongue darted and began to lick. Everywhere it could give pleasure.
It was but a beginning...
Quentin stirred lazily. Mmmm... it was most pleasing. Would it be possible that he could continue dozing whilst receiving such delicate stimulation? Possibly. But when this young blonde got sucking properly she would surely rouse him from any doze!
Mmmmm... Mmmmm... delicious... delicious...
The flickering tongue had begun to lick his still flaccid organ. Lingering on his knob, seeming to do it all so lovingly. What a delightful young slave this was! Quentin began to feel a slight stirring in his loins, would this incipient lust overcome his afternoon laziness?
Probably... probably...
But one could only wait and see.
In any case, it didn’t matter. Even if he fell asleep, Heidi would go on sucking him. Because he had given her the order to do so, and a slave obeyed an order!
Aaaahh... there was a faint stirring. And the little beauty had taken his knob into her mouth. Mmmm... she was beginning to suck quite wonderfully!
Quentin felt himself starting to thicken. As he did so, he felt the wet-warm mouth begin to suck more avidly. That was how it should be. Doubtless the girl had spent hours between the legs of Hans and Cassim under Melissa’s supervision, learning such tricks.
Mmmmm... delightful! Now he was getting more and more solid...
Quentin half opened his eyes to look down at a bobbing blond head... saw beyond it a bare back and a tight-rounded bottom. Mmmmm... what more could a man want? Perhaps he should fuck her after all. No... he felt too lazy to move. This sucking mouth, feeling even more eager, would quite suffice on this occasion.
Steadily Quentin’s lust mounted. His jowels began to shake a little, his belly to quake. Suddenly he groaned. He was going to come at any moment. Nothing could stop it.
Nothing...
The exquisite sensation flooded his loins. Seemed to fill his balls...
Then, groaning more loudly, rolling from side to side, he was spunking... and spunking... with Heidi still sucking and sucking, as she must.
Sucking and swallowing. Sucking and swallowing.
Draining me dry.
A final groan and Quentin’s head turned to one side. A dribble of saliva ran from one corner of his mouth. He sighed contentedly. His now flaccid organ was still held in the wet-warmth, in the mouth that had now ceased sucking.
Mmmm... lovely...
So... so... relaxing...
Quentin’s thoughts drifted up and away. He was at perfect peace. And within less than a minute, he had begun to snore faintly.
How long had he slept?
It could have been half an hour... an hour... two hours.
All Quentin knew that, when he did awake his prick was still in Heidi’s young wet mouth. He smiled, that was good, that showed how the girl had been trained. Heidi had received no order to remove her mouth so had kept her position. Excellent, the correct behaviour for a slave-girl. He wondered idly how often the girl had got a thrashing for removing her mouth without receiving an order.
God, he thought, I’m still feeling randy. It must be the heat plus the booze he’d had for lunchtime. Booze often did that for him though he wasn’t always able to perform to any great degree. Still, it was nice trying! Quentin patted the blonde head... and at once the mouth went to work again.
Almost imperceptibly at first. So gently...
Ahh, there was skill for you. This youngster knew what she was doing alright. Aware that he would not want to be rushed the second time... and her task might be of considerable duration.
Opening his eyes fully, Quentin became aware at this point of something going on at one end of the swimming pool, which was some fifty yards from the patio. There were three figures there... Melissa, wearing a summer dress, a naked Julia, and Hans, nude but for the briefest pair of trunks.
In Melissa’s hand was a whip... a slim, four-foot long snake of plaited rhino-hide... and Julia was having her wrists corded above her head to the framework of the diving-board by the German. Her head was down and she was obviously u*********s. She must have passed out in the heat, exhausted, thought Quentin, before she had finished cleaning the pool. Melissa would not accept this as a good reason for failure. Rather unjust... but a slave-girl could expect nothing else. He recalled how often, on the ‘Paradise,’ he had watched an overseer laying a meaty strap across some unfortunate girl’s hindquarters as she writhed up the deck. Either that girl would have fallen exhausted before scrubbing that deck from end to end, or was being too slow at her task. It made no difference. She got a good belting anyway... and was then put back to work. Good training that...
Now Cassim appeared, carrying two buckets. He was as briefly covered as Hans.
Slosh!
The first bucketful hit Julia in her face and breasts.
Slosh!
The second hit her back.
No effect. Or very little anyway. Melissa said something to the Arab who went off with the buckets, obviously to fetch more water. Julia now hung by her wrists, toes just touching the concrete beneath her.
Did Quentin feel any pity? Oddly enough, on this occasion, he felt just a twinge. Melissa had deliberately set the girl an impossible task and was now going to use the whip on her for failing. Julia was not often whipped, one would have thought that a lesser punishment would have sufficed and the whip should have been kept for something more serious. Still, that was Melissa for you...
He became conscious that Heidi was beginning to arouse him again. Yes, he was definitely thickening once more. Perhaps what he was witnessing was helping. One could not deny there was a great deal of pleasure in watching a lovely young woman about to be whipped. Even if it was an act of injustice!
Cassim returned with two more buckets and once more water was sloshed fore and aft over the drooping Julia. This time the dark head jerked up, even if it did fall again. Quentin heard a distant moan. She’s half-conscious anyway, thought Quentin ... and the first stroke would bring her fully round.
He was getting hard. Heidi was sucking more avidly. Oh it was good... good!
Hans and Cassim stepped to one side; Melissa trailed the whip over the concrete, straddled her legs slightly, then up it came …
Craaaccckkk!
It fell across the smoothness of Julia’s back, at just about the level of her shoulder blades, raising a cruel stripe of red torment.
An awful shriek, with head thrown back...
Julia jerked like a puppet on a string, twisting and swinging from side to side. Quentin saw that the tip of the whip had curled around and flailed into her right breast. No wonder it had been such an awful shriek!
Now he was almost fully hard. Heidi was doing a marvellous job. Now give it across that lovely bottom of hers, said Quentin to himself. Yes... make that lovely arse squirm!
It was as if Melissa had heard him...
Craaaccckkk!
The whip fell clean across the centre of Julia’s curvaceous buttocks... to send her into a frenzy of writhing again as her long, gasping scream echoed up to the skies.
Beautiful, thought Quentin. Oh look at that bottom juddering and jerking in agony! Oh how wonderful it was to see a naked woman whipped!
Now Quentin was roused to full erection... and Heidi was giving him everything. To increase his lustful pleasure, Quentin bent forward in the lounger and cupped the girl’s breasts ... squeezing the pendulous fruit.
“That’s it, girl... suck... suck...” he urged. Just as if Heidi was not already doing that with all her might!
Craaaccckkk!
Julia got a third stroke across her back, just a fraction lower. But this time Melissa had moved to the other side of her victim so that the tip of the whip now bit into Julia’s left breast.
Again that awful, disbelieving shriek...
Up... up... up!
Lucky this place is so isolated, reflected Quentin. Still, that was one of the reasons he’d bought it.
Ccrraaacccckkkk!
The whip had returned to Julia’s bottom, this fourth stroke coming from the same side as the third. Quentin saw the tip whip-lash around Julia’s left flank and scar the whiteness of her soft belly.
No wonder she shrieked as she did! No wonder she writhed like a fish on a hook and line!
Cruelty and lust were throbbing through Quentin. How many was Melissa going to lay on? A dozen, probably. Could he resist Heidi’s mouth until the end? He would try.
Oh God, it was SO good!
Watching Julia being whipped whilst this youngster sucked him!
Quentin saw Melissa change sides again.
Ccrraaaccckkkkkkk!
Across the smooth white back once more and again a fraction lower... but not so low that the right breast did not feel the whip’s bite.
“Yyyyeeeee... aaaagghh... aaaagghh... aaaggghhhh!”
A frenzy of twisting-juddering flesh...
Ccrraaacccckkkk!
The sixth stroke wealed the quaking-clenching buttock cheeks... setting them into a series of gyrations which had to be seen to be believed.
Then Julia’s head slumped.
She’s gone again, thought Quentin. Not surprising. Melissa signed to Cassim who hurried off with his buckets once more. In less than half a minute he was back and Julia was being unceremoniously revived.
Slosh!
Slosh!
Horrible sounds as she came back to life.
“Merceee... aaaagghh... merceeeeee!” Quentin clearly heard the pitiful plea. Julia did not often ask for mercy these days... because she knew she never got it. As on this occasion.
Methodically, Melissa resumed the whipping and, by the time the tenth stroke had fallen, Quentin was once again jerking and jetting into Heidi’s mouth... albeit not quite so strongly as on the first occasion. His pleasure, however, was if anything, even greater.
Lying back panting Quentin was dimly aware of two more strokes cracking across the flesh of the half-demented Julia. But he was past caring...
As, it seemed, was Julia after the twelfth stroke. For no more sound came from her. She must be u*********s again, thought Quentin with a lazy kind of indifference. He closed his eyes again.
A short while later, through fractionally open lids, Quentin saw Hans carrying a lifeless Julia into the house like a sack of coals. Cassim followed after. Then Melissa, whip now coiled. She glanced at him but did not stop. Perhaps, she thinks I am asleep... or do not want to be disturbed.
On the other hand, having been highly roused by what she had done, it was more than likely that while Cassim attended to Julia’s Treatment, she would have Hans give her a good fucking. Or maybe Hans would give the Treatment and Cassim give the fucking.
Quentin smiled.
He didn’t care either way.
There was of course, a third possibility, he mused. And that was that both Hans and Cassim would fuck her!
Bon chance to them all!
As far as he was concerned, he couldn’t have asked for a more enjoyable afternoon.
A quarter of an hour later, young Heidi had been dismissed and Quentin strolled back to his personal apartment to take a much needed shower. He had sweated a lot.
Refreshed, rubbing himself down, Quentin looked through the iron-grilled door into the room in which he kept Simone. As usual she was lying on her hard bunk as if asleep, her lacerated hind-quarters towards him.
“Tut... tut... “he said half to himself. He had quite meant to send the woman for Treatment and then clean forgotten all about it! Still, no matter, an extension of her sufferings would do no harm.
He unlocked the door and entered.
Gasping, groaning, somehow Simone managed to force herself. She knelt on the bunk and projected her superb hind quarters towards the door, thighs parted. This was the obligatory posture she had to adopt whenever anyone entered her cell-room. Failure to do so got her a caning... so she had a strong incentive to make the effort!
Quentin grinned as he saw the round, black base of the dildoe nicely in position. All was well. However Simone would have to wear a retaining harness if she was to be moving about the house. Melissa seemed to think it was a good idea that she should be put to work rather than ‘lop about’ all day. He would consider that. However, Simone was his personal slave... and he would do as he wished with her.
“How’s it feeling, my slave?” enquired Quentin.
A sobbing groan from Simone...
“That thing up your arse, I mean?”
Another groan, another shudder.
Quentin quietly took down the hook-handled cane which always hung ready across the wall. Two quick strokes... left and right... across Simone’s already agonisingly tender bottom sent her shrieking, sprawling and twisting along the bunk to the wall.
“M-Merceee!” she cried, turning and holding out imploring arms. There was a look of defeat and exhaustion on her contorted features.
“You must answer your Master when he questions you!” rasped Quentin, flexing the cane. If her liked he could give it to her across those lovely melon-tits of hers... and he would if she wasn’t quick with her reply.
“A-aghh... it... h-hurts... M-Master...” moaned Simone, tears cascading.
“Oh it does, does it?” Quentin half sneered. “So, by the look of it does the rest of your backside. Don’t you ever dare to disobey me again!”
It had not taken him long to conquer this proud and rebellious woman, reflected Quentin. She had become like putty in his hands and would, except in panic and moments of mental aberration, do just as he ordered. As a slave-girl should. Excellent. He replaced the cane on its hook and saw the look of relief in Simone’s eyes.
“Did I give you permission to stop showing me your wares?” demanded Quentin.
“N-no... No... I... I beg pardon, Master... “
Simone scrambled around and once more adopted her original degrading posture. Quentin studied his possession at leisure. There was plenty of meat on this woman, which made her a pleasant contrast to the younger and more neatly-rounded charms of Maria and Heidi. Incredible to realise that this was the same haughty, arrogant woman he had met one evening in a restaurant not so long ago, what remarkable changes pain and terror can induce!
“Alright, that will do,” he said at last. “You can get off there now.”
Wincing, flinching, gasping, Simone got painfully off the bunk. She half stooped, by reason of the fact that the skin on her bottom seemed to have halved in area!
“Stand up straight, girl!” snapped Quentin. It was amusing to call this woman of thirty ‘girl’.
Simone cried out as she forced herself to straighten. Oh the blazing torment of her buttocks!
“Put your hands on top of your head...”
Simone did so. Her fulsome breasts rose a little higher. The aureoles were large, the strong nipples a light brown. Almost casually Quentin fondled both breasts, feeling a little shudder as he did so. Ah yes... this woman still had to make a tremendous effort not to recoil. That was good. One day she would have become so acclimatised no such effort would be required, she would have become as Julia now was.
“Who do these belong to?” asked Quentin.
“Mmff... mmfff... y-you... M-Master.”
“Correct slave.” He squeezed the resilient flesh. “Though once you were loath to admit it.” He grinned. “But not now, eh?”
Simone shook her head. “N-no... Master,” she whispered, tears flowing faster. Oh the bitterness of defeat!
“If I hadn’t just had young Heidi sucking me,” continued Quentin, still fondling, “I should now give you a fucking.” He saw a cheek twitch. “However, I don’t want to make you miss a treat. You will go along to the Treatment room where, I am sure, you will find either Cassim or Hans attending to Julia. You will tell whoever it is that you have been sent for Treatment. Also you will ask whoever it is to fuck you.” Again that cheek twitched. “Clear, slave?”
“Mmfff... mmmmfff... y-yer... essss... M-Master,” sobbed Simone. Oh the humiliation of it! The utter, utter humiliation of it!
“Off you go then,” smiled Quentin.
Quentin pulled wide the door and made a little mock bow as Simone swayed stiffly past him.
Sick at heart, but aching for the relief that Treatment would ultimately bring, Simone entered the Treatment room. Cassim, the Arab had just finished attending to Julia who, covered in ointment, lay secured face down on one of the tables. She had recovered consciousness and was wide-eyed and silent.
“I have been sent for Treatment, Sir,” said Simone, dropping one knee.
“Have you,” grinned Cassim, “and from what I saw of your backside not long ago, you could do with it.”
Simone summoned her resolve. “And... and... Sir... I am to ask... ask... if... oohh... if... you w-would like to... to f-fuck me...”
The grin on Cassim’s dusky face broadened. “I’ll think about that, my good woman,” he said. “Yes... I’ll certainly think about that. But for the time being, come up on here.” He tapped the top of a table-top next to Julia’s.
Gasping with the pain it caused, Simone got on to the table and lay face down. Her wrists and ankles were buckled to each corner so that she was spread-eagled. Simone gritted her teeth and felt her nates start to clench and unclench involuntarily. The first part of the Treatment was the purest agony... intensifying the agony when a Lotion was applied; only when the Ointment went on did the relief start.
The icy-cold liquid... poured on... instantly turning to blazing heat. Then rubbed in. Unbelievable pain! Intensifying. Simone screamed and screamed uninhibitedly, praying for the Ointment to be applied, pleading for it. But as ever, Cassim seemed in no hurry.
Then, when she thought she could not endure the torment a single moment more, the cooling Ointment came. More... more... oh quickly! All over... aaaahh... quickly... quickly!
Moaning, Simone felt relief coming, she sobbed like a c***d. Carelessly indifferent, Cassim slapped and kneaded her buttock cheeks... and also occasionally fondled her sexually. Simone did not care, as long as she got relief.
“There,” said Cassim at last, giving the ample bottom a final slap. “You’ll soon feel... and look... a lot better.” He turned on the large arc-lamp above the table. Healing rays began to beam down, penetrating deep to perform their miraculous quick-healing work. Then Cassim touched the end of the dildoe.
“I see they’re getting you ready for me,” he said. Simone shuddered but remained silent. “It’ll be quite a while though,” continued Cassim. “Now, about this fucking. If I release your ankles, you can get your arse nicely in the air. It’ll be a bit sticky but I’m not all that fussed.”
Simone felt her ankles unbuckled. A sickness rose within her as she drew up her knees to present herself blatantly. To present herself to a stinking Arab. To present herself to a stinking Arab with a massive organ.
Simone gritted her teeth and waited.
Was there no end to the degradation she had to suffer?
The b**st would be removing his brief trunks. Looking upon her lecherously, looking down on the white woman he could humiliate and then enjoy as and when he wished. Doubtless he would have taken hold of his organ... would be manipulating it a little... preparing it to enter her... preparing it to ravage her bestially.
Simone gritted her teeth even more fiercely.
Any moment now...
There came a faint buzzing sound. Simone heard Cassim’s bare feet padding across the room. Turning her head, she saw the great bone of his manhood swinging before him as he crossed the room. Yes... he was certainly ready for her.
“Treatment Room,” said Cassim, having picked up the house-phone. A pause. “Ah yes... Ma’am... of course, Ma’am. At once Ma’am...” The receiver went down and Cassim came back. “Sorry... some other time,” he said, giving Simone’s raised bottom a stinging slap. “Your Mistress is making demands!”
With a yelp, Simone slid down. She heard the door open and close, relief flooded her momentarily. Then Simone began to sob quietly as she lay there with only wrists secured.
Was there not an even greater abasement in being rejected by such a vile creature than in being taken by him?
Trish
- 03.06.2022
- 28
- 0
